


Making It

by CrowleyLovesUSUK



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boy Band, Alternate Universe - Reality Show, Anal Sex, Blackmail, Blowjobs, Boys Kissing, Celebrities, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-03-01 07:36:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13290129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrowleyLovesUSUK/pseuds/CrowleyLovesUSUK
Summary: After competing on a new reality show where members of a new boy band are chosen, the Allies end up becoming famous.  As relationships form, some obstacles keep them from moving forward.  Will the desire for fame stand in the way of love?





	1. Winners

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to write some porn this year and it turned into a story. So expect a lot of PWP thrown in to this story. I will do NSFW warnings before on a chapter when this is about to happen.
> 
> Main Pairing: USUK  
> Side Pairings: RoChu and Franada with Fem!Canada

** Chapter One:  **

            The backstage area was crowded and dark.  People were bumping into each other and quietly apologizing, trying not to disrupt the filming going on onstage.  Arthur Kirkland rubbed his hands together and felt how clammy they were.  He shook his head, and tried to clear his mind.  This wasn’t the first time that nerves had come to him before a performance and it wouldn’t be the last.  He felt someone jostle his elbow and looked up to see a stage hand turning away from him.  He tried to close his eyes and focus on his upcoming song, but he couldn’t seem to remember any of the lyrics.  He wasn’t too concerned though, he knew that once he had the microphone in his hand, that he would remember everything.  He was a professional and he would always act as one.

            Arthur was competing on the new American reality show, _Making It_ , where young men from around the world were vying for a spot in a new boy band.  The ratings had made it incredibly popular and now the show was in its fourth season.  Each season, they traded off between boy bands and girl groups.  The women who had won last season were quite popular in the indie rock circuit.  And the other previous winners had had some degree of success.  Arthur was hoping that his luck would hold out and that he would be chosen for one of the final five who would make up the new band.  He had never really been into boy bands, but he couldn’t argue with their success.  And Arthur was willing to do just about anything to make it in the music business.  This was just a stepping stone to a solo career.

            He could hear the young man that was currently onstage singing his chosen number and the crowd was seeming to enjoy the performance.  Arthur gritted his teeth and did his best not to think of the competition.  Especially Francis Bonnefoy who was currently singing.  The Frenchman was oily and obnoxious and Arthur couldn’t stand him.  In fact, Arthur couldn’t really tolerate any of the other contestants, but he did his best to be polite and civil for the cameras.  He didn’t want to blow his shot just because the audience realized that he didn’t get along with many people.  He needed to be likeable.  As likeable as he could possibly pretend to be.

            Francis finished up his number to a loud, resounding applause and Arthur absently clapped his hands together a few times in the wings.  The reaction was automatic and he mentally chided himself for applauding the pompous French competitor.  Arthur knew that he was up next and he began to mentally psyche himself up for the performance.  He bounced a little on his toes and took deep, cleansing breaths.  He could do this.  He knew that he could.

            When Francis finally pulled himself off stage, Arthur took his place in the wings, waiting to be called out by the show’s host.  When he heard his name, he stepped confidently onto the stage and blinked into the bright lights.  He was going to be performing a popular ballad from a boy band of the nineteen nineties.  He knew that he was going to nail it.  After answering a few questions from the judges, Arthur heard the first opening strains of his music.  He closed his eyes, and began to sing.

                                    *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

            In the green room, off of the stage, Alfred F. Jones sat on a plush sofa and leaned back into the cushy pillows.  His eyes were trained on the monitor that showed what was happening on the stage and he was riveted.  Alfred had performed first that evening, so he wasn’t required to do anything until later when the judges would announce who was going to be kicked off the show later that night.  Alfred enjoyed hanging out in the green room, there was always plenty of food laid out for the performers and food was something that Alfred loved.  He leaned forward toward the low coffee table in front of him and grabbed a handful of cashews, popping them into his mouth, his eyes never leaving the screen of the television.

            Arthur was singing now, and Alfred couldn’t look away.  It was a sappy love ballad that Alfred vaguely recognized as being popular back in the day.  He felt something in his chest tighten and secretly thought that the song was going to gain popularity again, simply because Arthur was singing it so perfectly.  Alfred had been enamored of the British man ever since the first day of the competition.  He liked the way that Arthur walked and talked and especially the way he sang.  When Arthur Kirkland opened his mouth to sing, Alfred felt as though the whole world was full of love.

            He knew that he had to keep his feelings under wraps though.  They were in a competition to be in a boy band, a group usually adored by preteen girls.  The audience wanted to picture the members singing love songs to _them_ , not to another man.  Alfred was open about his sexuality, but he wasn’t about to parade it around when the fact that he was bi could possibly ruin his chances at fame and fortune.

            The door to the green room burst open and Francis came barging in, his shoulder-length blonde hair flapping in the breeze of the air conditioner.  He looked like a model for the cover of a romance novel.  Alfred knew that Francis had a rabid following of young ladies already and he was definitely a contender.  He looked up as the Frenchman entered and said, “How did it go?” Even though he had watched the performance on the monitor.

            “Superb,” Francis sighed as he sat down in a large armchair near Alfred.  “Of course, it’s me, so it was perfect.” Francis winked at Alfred and reached for a large orange on the table.

            “You were okay,” Alfred grumbled.  He turned his eyes back to the screen and watched Arthur finish up with his performance.  He ended the song on a perfectly pitched note and the audience went absolutely wild.  The camera panned over the crowd and many people were on their feet applauding the short, British man.  Arthur bowed slightly and a faint smile graced his features.  Alfred thought that he looked beautiful like that.  All smug and tousled from the performance.  He wondered if that was what Arthur looked like after sex.

            Shaking his head, Alfred tried to push those kinds of thoughts out of his mind.  He couldn’t lose focus now.  Tonight was the finale of the show.  One person was going to be sent home and the rest of them would be the five performers who would make up the new band.  They would have a signing contract, a recording deal, and sponsorships for at least a year to see if they had what it took to become famous.  It was the chance of a lifetime for Alfred and he couldn’t blow it just because he happened to have a little crush.  He didn’t even know if Arthur was into guys anyway.  He had to maintain professionalism and keep his distance.  He didn’t have a choice.

            A young woman wearing a headset popped into the green room and pointed at Alfred and Francis.  “Have you seen Ivan or Yao or Kiku?” she asked them.  Both of them shook their heads and she made a disgruntled sound.  She relayed into her headset that she had two of the contestants and would find the rest immediately.  Then she looked at Francis and Alfred and told them they needed to get backstage and get ready for the final cut.  They looked at one another warily, but stood up and followed her out toward the stage.

                        *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

            Arthur sat in his chair, leaning back and sipping some water that one of the assistants had grabbed for him.  He was very pleased with his performance.  He felt confident that he wouldn’t be the one going home tonight, which was excellent.  Tonight was it.  Whoever was left after the final cut was going to be in the band.  He watched the other contestants milling about while the stage hands changed the set for the elimination.

            Francis was in the corner conversing with a pretty girl from the crew and even from a distance, Arthur could see that he was turning on the charm.  He rolled his eyes.  Francis was a notorious flirt and Arthur found it rather disgusting.  The tall, hulking Russian, Ivan was off to the side, not speaking to anyone, simply watching the sets get switched out and not moving.  Arthur thought it was rather creepy.  Ivan was a good singer and had stage presence, but he didn’t know how popular the man was seeing as he was so intimidating.

            The two Asians, Yao and Kiku were nearby, talking animatedly with their hands about some sort of television show that they both watched.  Arthur didn’t follow popular shows so he wasn’t sure what they were actually discussing.  He thought that Yao was a contender, his delicate features, and high tenor were superb and exactly what the producers were looking for.  Kiku, however was quite shy and Arthur was a little surprised that he had made it this far into the competition.  He was talented, but he didn’t have quite the stage presence that the others did.

            That left only Jones.  Arthur looked around and couldn’t see the American anywhere.  He didn’t know what to think of Alfred Jones.  He was bright and bubbly and charismatic.  He was just what the people running the show were looking for to lead a boy band to success.  Arthur was sure that Alfred was a shoo-in.  He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.  Arthur was rather confident that he would make the cut, but he didn’t know how he felt about working in close proximity with Alfred Jones.

            Ever since the competition began eight weeks ago, Arthur had felt awkward around the American.  Alfred was always trying to talk to him and asking him to hang out after a day of filming.  Arthur didn’t know if Alfred was just naturally friendly, or if there was something more.  Something beneath the surface.  He hoped, of course, that perhaps Alfred were like him, but he doubted it.  There weren’t many successful performers who catered to the female population and were out and proud.

            Arthur had known that he was gay since he was a child, but he had worked very hard to conceal it when he was younger.  It wasn’t until high school when he began to explore his sexuality.  He had found that English boarding schools were full of other rich young men who were questioning their feelings and preferences and he had had many willing partners.  But now that he was trying to break into the music scene, he was trying to keep it under wraps.  At least until he was famous.  After he had a Grammy, who would care if he liked other men?  At least that was what he was hoping for.

            The call came for places, which pulled Arthur out of his reverie and he saw that Alfred was already on the stage, taking a seat in the middle chair so that he would be the center of attention.  He looked flushed and so very handsome that Arthur felt the beginnings of a blush creep up the back of his neck.  He sipped another drink of water to cool himself down and went to join the others on stage for the finale.  He had to keep it together, at least for a little while longer.

                        *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

            The host of the show was in the middle of telling a joke and the audience was eating it up.  Alfred tried to discreetly wipe his hands on his thighs, as they were getting sweaty under the stage lights.  He was actually nervous.  He knew that he had performed well, but there was always other factors.  Maybe he hadn’t gotten enough votes?  He was ashamed to admit how nervous he actually was.  He knew he was excellent and that he deserved to be kept on for the final five, but he was still sweating just the same.

            “And now, its’ time to announce who will be leaving us tonight,” the host said finally into his microphone.  “I know you wish they could all stay, but we can only have five folks.”  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small envelope.  He took his time opening it and Alfred looked around at the faces of the other contestants.  Everyone was wearing a tight smile and they all looked as terrified as Alfred felt.

            Winking at the audience, the host said, “Are you all ready to find out who is going to be saying goodbye?”

            They all cheered and clapped and whistled.  Alfred clenched his teeth.  He wished that they would just get on with it and stop drawing it all out.  The host pulled a small white card out of the envelope and read it silently to himself for a moment.  “I am sorry to say,” he began.  Alfred felt himself lean forward in his seat.  “That the young man who will be leaving us tonight is Kiku Honda!”

            Alfred felt his heart start beating again and his muscles relax.  He had made it!  He was one of the final five!  He glanced down the row and saw that Kiku was standing up and stoically making his way to the host to shake his hand.  Once Kiku had left the stage, the host held out his arm and gestured at the five men left seated on the stage.  “I give you the final members of _Making It_ —Ivan Braginsky, Yao Wang, Arthur Kirkland, Alfred F. Jones and Francis Bonnefoy!”

            They all stood up and took a bow.  Alfred felt like he could walk on air.  This was the best night of his life.  His smile was so bright that he was sure he was blinding the audience.  They were all on their feet cheering the final five.  Alfred looked at the others and realized that this was it.  They were the last ones standing.  They were going to be the next big boy band in the country.  He was going to have to learn to work with each and every one of them.  Some would be harder than others.  He wasn’t very fond of Ivan, but who was?

            The host motioned for the audience to calm down and the crowd of people took their seats once more.  “I hope you five are ready, because now is where the real work begins,” he told them.  Alfred couldn’t wait.


	2. Kissing

** Chapter Two: **

            “You know you shouldn’t be calling me,” Yao spoke primly into the phone’s receiver.  “It isn’t appropriate.”

            There was a sigh on the other end of the phone and the lilting voice of Ivan came through, “I cannot help myself, you know that.”

            Yao curled a piece of long, black hair around his fingertips absently and pursed his lips.  He looked around his suite and then closed his eyes.  “Don’t call me anymore Ivan.”

            “I just wanted to tell you goodnight,” Ivan’s voice caressed him through the phone.  Yao almost broke.  He had been attracted to the other man since the very first rehearsals of the show and he had spent his energy fighting the attraction the whole way.  He knew that his family would not approve, but there was something that drew him to the other man.  Something indefinable. 

“You looked beautiful tonight.”  Ivan spoke simply and Yao let himself feel the compliment, but only for a moment. 

“Goodnight, Ivan,” Yao said firmly before pressing the end button on his phone.  He stared at the device in his hand for a while, thinking of how every night, Ivan would call him simply to tell him to sleep well.  It was a secret, and it had to stay that way.  Yao retreated to his bathroom and drew a bath in the Jacuzzi tub, determined not to spend any more time thinking about Ivan…at least until the other man appeared in his dreams.  No one, not even his father, could stop him from dreaming.

                        *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Arthur leaned his elbows on the smooth wood of the hotel’s bar and his eyes scanned the offerings available.  Gin, tequila, vodka and rum all looked down from their shelves at him merrily.  He decided on an old favorite and signaled the bartender with a lazy wave of his hand.  The girl rushed over to him, the glint in her eye telling him that she knew exactly who he was.  He really hoped that she didn’t try to hit on him—he wasn’t in the mood tonight.  Arthur placed a perfunctory order with her, making it clear that he didn’t want any social niceties and within minutes, he was sipping his delicious rum and coke concoction. 

He took a long pull through the abnormally tiny straw and set the drink down on the cardboard coaster that the bartender had placed in front of him.  Absently stirring the ice cubes around in the glass with the straw, he glanced around the dimly lit area of the bar.  There were a few men in suits, business-men from the looks of it, and two women sitting near the corner at a table together.  From the snippets of conversation he could hear, they sounded like sisters who were at some sort of family function.  He turned away, not really paying any attention to his surroundings.

Taking another long drink, he glanced up just in time to see Francis Bonnefoy slide into the seat next to him and call out an order for white wine.  Arthur’s nostrils flared in annoyance.  Francis was the last person that he wanted to see.  He angled his body away from Franics, but the Frenchman scooted his stool closer to Arthur’s and smiled at him.

“I thought I might find you here,” he oozed.  Arthur cringed at the accent.  It was so strong and pronounced and…French.

“What do you want?” Arthur snapped.

“I just wanted to give my congratulations to my old friend,” Francis smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“We aren’t friends,” Arthur sipped his drink.  “We are nothing of the sort.”

“We’ve known each other almost our entire lives,” Francis pointed out.

“That doesn’t mean we are acquainted,” Arthur insisted.  “Just because our parents are friends and you’ve shown up at every audition I have ever went to, doesn’t mean we’re close.”

“I got some of those parts away from you too,” Francis laughed.

“You didn’t deserve them,” Arthur finally turned to look at the other man.  “You only went into performing because I wanted to do it.  You just wanted to show me up, despite the fact that you’re incredibly mediocre.”

“I’m good enough to be in this band,” Francis narrowed his eyes.

“Barely,” Arthur sneered.  “I bet Kiku would have been a better fit than you. And your rendition of that horrible Celine Dion song was awful!”

“Now you’re just trying to hurt my feelings, mon ami,” Francis said.

Arthur turned away and pretended to be very interested in his cocktail.  He averted his gaze and made believe that the seat next to him was empty.  He remained in his seat and drank himself through three more rum and cokes.  Francis stayed sitting next to him, sipping on his wine.  Neither of them spoke again.

                        *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

By the time Arthur stumbled up to his suite, he was seeing double.  He groped around for the light and blinked when it clicked on.  Everything was so bright.  He wandered over toward the bed and debated the mini bar before he simply sat down heavily on the duvet.  He was just about to lay back against the pillows when he heard a soft knock at the door.  He groaned, assuming it was Francis.  “Coming,” he yelled and hefted himself up off of the bed.

He tripped over nothing as he went to the door and fell against it hard.  There was a clunk as he hit it with his shoulder and he heard a voice from the hallway ask if he was all right.  “Fine, fine,” he muttered, pulling the sliding lock off and flinging the door open.

Alfred Jones stood in front of him, staring.  Arthur blinked as he tilted his head up to look into Alfred’s impossibly blue eyes.  “What are you doing here?” he asked in confusion.

“I, um,” Alfred stammered.  “I wanted to see you and say congrats for the whole competition thing.  You were a sure thing from the start, I knew that.”

“Won’t you come in,” Arthur gestured into his room.  He wasn’t sure what else to say at the moment.  He just knew that in his hazy state, he wanted Alfred to stay a little longer.

“Sure,” Alfred said easily and stepped into the room.  He watched Arthur close and lock the door behind them.

They walked a little way into the room and sat on the small sofa in front of the television.  Their knees brushed as they tried to get comfortable in the small space and they both pulled their legs away awkwardly.  Finally, after what seemed like an age, Alfred broke the silence.  “I liked your song tonight.”

“I didn’t think you would be into that sort of thing,” Arthur slurred slightly.

“Hey,” Alfred said laughing.  “I was a fan.  I won’t admit it to many people, but I liked their songs.  My sister got me into them, actually.”

“I liked them too,” Arthur said as though it were a secret.  “Most men don’t enjoy boy bands,” he pointed out.

“Most _straight_ men don’t,” Alfred said cryptically.

Arthur cocked his head and regarded the handsome American sitting next to him.  Was Alfred saying he was straight, definitely straight?  Or was he hinting that he wasn’t?  Arthur was so confused.  He wished he could just come right out and ask the other man if he might fancy lads, but he wasn’t that drunk.  He finally just managed to blurt out, “That’s true.”

“But you like them,” Alfred said, his voice holding a question that Arthur couldn’t make out.

“Yes,” Arthur nodded.  “I suppose I do.”

“So some straight guys like boy bands then,” Alfred looked at him.  His eyes were searching.

“Um,” Arthur was tipsy, but he wasn’t stupid enough to say it out loud—was he?  “Alfred,” he said.  “I’m gay.”

Arthur immediately ducked his head and missed the glow in Alfred’s eyes at his admission.  The American’s features went bright at the huge smile that graced his lips, but Arthur missed it all.  When he looked back up, Alfred was watching him with a serious expression.  “Please don’t parade it around,” Arthur asked him.

“I would never out you,” Alfred said seriously.

Nodding, Arthur said, “I know.  Thank you.”

Alfred shifted in his seat.  He looked as though he wanted to say something, but his mouth didn’t open.  Arthur watched as Alfred bit his lower lip and the sight almost killed him.  The American looked so delectable that Arthur wanted to fling himself into Alfred’s arms right at that moment.

“Arthur,” Alfred whispered.

“Yes?”

Alfred didn’t respond.  He just tilted his head and bent his neck and swooped in for a fast kiss on the lips.  Arthur felt their mouths move together and just as he was reaching up to pull Alfred closer, the American’s lips were gone.  Alfred was on his feet, shaking and pale.  “I have to go,” he shouted.  Arthur watched as the handsome boy ran from the room, slamming the suite’s door behind him.

For a moment, Arthur simply sat on the small sofa, dazed.  He reached up and touched his lips.  They were still tingling from the might of Alfred’s impromptu kiss.

                        *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Alfred didn’t start breathing until he was back in his own room, his back pressed against the closed door.  He pressed his hand to his chest and felt his heart ramming against his ribcage.  It was pounding out of control.  Alfred couldn’t believe that he had actually done that.  He knew that Arthur was a little drunk, so hopefully the attractive Brit wouldn’t remember it in the morning.  Alfred felt embarrassed and nervous.  His stomach was starting to flip with anxiety.  _What had he done?_

He’d kissed Arthur Kirkland!  The very thing he had been dreaming about for weeks had finally come to pass.  Alfred slowed his breathing and walked into his room.  He sat on the bed and stared without seeing at the room around him.  He couldn’t believe he had done that.  What must Arthur think about him?  Alfred didn’t want to know.  He could only hope that by the morning Arthur would forget that anything had happened.  Otherwise, he didn’t know how he was going to face the Englishman in the morning for their talk show appearance. 

Alfred flopped back onto his bed and kicked his shoes off using his heels.  He heard them hit the floor and he lay on the bed, dangling his legs over the side.  He knew that he wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight.  Closing his eyes, he placed his hand on his forehead and groaned.

                        *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The five of them: Alfred, Arthur, Ivan, Yao and Francis all sat in makeup chairs, having final touches done to their faces and hair before they joined the hosts of _Wake Up, USA_ for their first appearances after the winning of their show.  The popular morning show was known worldwide, so they had all heard of it before, and Alfred was especially excited to be on it, having grown up watching it.

He bounced a little in his chair and polished his glasses with a cloth that his make-up artist had given him.  He looked over and saw the other guys sitting in their chairs getting the last bits added to their appearances.  Arthur was two chairs over and hadn’t spoken to him at all that morning.  Alfred didn’t know whether or not that was a good sign.

He wanted to ask for more coffee but he knew that they were due on stage soon and that there would be cups waiting for them on the show to sip from.  He hoped it was hot and delicious and not cold and stale like on some talk shows.

“Places,” a young girl wearing a headset ran past them waving her arms. 

Alfred’s makeup artist gave him one more pat with a brush and smiled, releasing him to join the others waiting to enter the stage.  He could hear the hosts asking the audience if they had been watching the show _‘Making It’_ and there was a resounding cry and applause.  Soon enough they were being announced and they all trouped out onto the stage and took their seats after shaking hands with the host and hostess of the show.  Alfred came out last and received the loudest applause.  He waved and smiled but his heart really wasn’t into it.  He was still worried about the previous night and what Arthur was thinking of him.

Once they were all seated, they each were introduced and a short clip of one of their performances was shown on the large screen behind them.  When that was finished, the hostess smiled at them with a predatory gleam in her eye and began to ask the questions they had all been dreading, egged on by her co-host.

They finally finished up and took a few questions from the audience.  One woman wanted to know what product Francis used on his hair, and another asked why Ivan was always wearing a scarf.  (She received a vague response.)  Finally they had time for one more question and it was directed at Alfred.  A young girl stood up in the audience and spoke into the microphone.  “So Alfred, is there anyone special in your life?  Like a girlfriend?”

Alfred froze and blushed and stammered out a, “No, no girlfriend for me.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW ahead...

** Chapter Three: **

The studio conference room was sparse white and chrome.  There was a large, potted fichus in the corner and Alfred focused his attention on it.  His vision was getting a little blurry around the edges with how hard he was staring at the green plant.  The five of them were all seated around the table, waiting, as they had been for the past twenty minutes.  No one was really speaking except for Francis who was attempting to make small talk and failing miserably. 

The door opened and one of the group’s new manager’s walked in.  He was tall and dressed in a crisp navy suit.  The door clicked shut behind him and he stood at the head of the conference table to address the five young men in front of him.  Francis immediately stopped talking at the sight of the manager.  “The taping of _Wake Up, USA_ could have gone a bit better,” he began.  “None of you really seemed as though you had memorized the answers to the questions we had given you beforehand.”  He fixed each of them with a stare.  “It is absolutely _vital_ that from now on, you all stick to the things you are told to say and not to deviate from the company line.”

The manager walked around the side of the table and placed his hands on Ivan’s shoulders.  Ivan stared blankly ahead as though he had no idea that the studio man was even touching him.  “From now on, you’re all single,” the manager said.  “You will appear available and any and all relationships must be kept under wraps and approved of by us.  We want to keep those young ladies happy and listening to your music and they won’t do that if they don’t think they may have a chance with any of you.”  He paused and made eye contact with each of them once again.  “Therefore,” he said loudly.  “No relationships, no entanglements, nothing, nada, zip, ziltch.  Got it?”

They all nodded mutely, but Alfred’s brow furrowed as he soaked in what was being said.  They couldn’t date anyone?  Anyone?  This made his impromptu kiss with Arthur even worse.  How were they supposed to talk about things and get back to normal if they were forbidden from having a relationship with each other?  Not that Alfred thought that one hasty kiss equaled a relationship—but he had kind of been hoping.  Now those hopes and dreams were dashed.  Alfred looked around the table and noticed the other guys all were quiet and wearing serious expressions.  It seemed as though this news wasn’t welcome to anyone.

“Okay,” their manager said, circling around and sitting at the head of the table.  “Let’s talk about tomorrow’s rehearsal, shall we?”  Alfred settled in for a long and boring meeting.  He turned his attention back to the fichus and tried not to think about how the green of the plant was so similar to Arthur’s eyes.  He had to get ahold of himself—and fast!

                        *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

That night, Arthur found himself back at the hotel bar once more.  He was sitting at the same seat and nursing another rum and coke mixture.  Not many people were in the bar this time of the evening.  Most were still at dinner or work meetings, so Arthur was relatively alone.  The sun had set behind the windows though and he could see a few stars glinting in the sky.  He hoped fervently that Francis wouldn’t show up again.

Glancing around, he was surprised to see Alfred standing at the door of the bar, looking around nervously.  Jones’ eyes met his and Alfred’s face broke into a grin.  He waved his hand and came walking toward Arthur’s chair.  “Hey,” Alfred said, his voice cracking a little.

“Hello,” Arthur turned back to his drink, but kept an eye on the American as Alfred pulled up a stool and took a seat next to him.  “Haven’t seen you in the bar before,” Arthur commented casually.

“I don’t drink much,” Alfred said with honesty.

“Can’t hold your liquor?” Arthur said, flitting his gaze to the American.

“Nah,” Alfred grinned.  “I just don’t really like it that much.  I used to, when I was about fifteen, but I got a killer hangover once and it kind of ruined it for me.”

Arthur got hangovers nearly every day, so he didn’t really see how one bad one could keep a person from drinking, but to each their own.  He shrugged and turned back to his drink.  Alfred waved his hand to the bartender and ordered a lager, which surprised Arthur a little.  “Thought you didn’t drink?”

“I said I don’t drink _much_ ,” Alfred laughed.  “I’ll have one or two on occasion if I feel like I need it.”

“And you feel as though you need one now?” Arthur queried as the light colored beer was placed in front of Alfred.

The American took a long sip before responding.  “After last night?  Yeah, I feel like I need it.”  Arthur remained silent and waited for Alfred to continue.  “You know,” the American looked at him.  “The kiss?”

“Oh,” Arthur pretended to be surprised.  “That.  Yes.  I can see why you might need liquid courage if you’re going to bring that up.  I was rather humiliated you know.”

“ _You_ were humiliated?” Alfred goggled at him.

“Yes I was,” Arthur turned in his chair to face Alfred.  “You kissed me out of nowhere,” he hissed.  “And then practically broke down the door running from the room as though you couldn’t wait to get away from me.  I was humiliated.”

“Well so was I,” Alfred insisted.  “I don’t know what I was thinking, I just felt like I had to do it.”

“You had to kiss me?” Arthur cocked his large eyebrow.

“Well,” Alfred looked down at the shiny top of the bar.  “Yeah.”

By this time, both of their drinks were empty and they ordered another round.  The silence stretched before them as they waited for their drinks.  When the bartender returned, they drank quietly for a little while before Alfred whispered, “So, you’re not mad at me?”

“For kissing me?  Or for taking off like a bat out of hell?” Arthur snapped.

“Either?” Alfred said.  “Both?”

“No,” Arthur said after a long moment.  “I’m not mad at you.”

“Good,” Alfred took a rather large swig of his beer.  “Cause I’d really like to do that again sometime.”  The alcohol coursing through his system seemed to be making him brave.  Arthur was a little taken aback at Alfred’s boldness.

“You…you would?” Arthur stammered.  A little of his drink sloshed out onto the bar and he hastily tried to wipe it up with a cocktail napkin.

“Yeah,” Alfred said seriously.  “I really would.”

Arthur stared at him and then turned away to take another sturdy drink of rum.  “You heard what that man said this afternoon,” he began.  “No relationships, no dalliances, nothing.”

“But sneaking around could be more fun,” Alfred pushed.  “Right?”

“There will be no more kissing Jones,” Arthur said firmly taking another gulp of his drink.  “No more.”

                        *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Arthur could feel the cool metal walls of the elevator through his shirt.  His back was pressed against the small space and Alfred’s strong, muscular arms were around him.  He had been backed into a corner by the larger man and their lips were locked in a fierce kiss.  Despite his earlier proclamation, after two more drinks he had leant in and pressed his lips to a startled Alfred’s.  Realizing what a public space they were in, they quickly billed their drinks to their respective rooms and made their way across the marble lobby to the elevator.  They had held each other up, stumbling as they went.

As soon as the doors to the lift had closed, Alfred had turned on him with a predatory gaze.  The American’s bright blue eyes were slightly glazed and Arthur knew he probably had the same look on his own face.  They came together hard and Alfred had maneuvered him into a corner of the elevator.

Arthur opened his mouth and felt Alfred’s tongue slide against his own.  He moaned deeply and lifted his leg up, opening himself for Alfred to grind against him.  He could feel the American’s hardness straining against Alfred’s tight blue jeans.  Arthur almost came right there at the sensation.

A small ping announced that they had arrived on Alfred’s floor and the doors slid open.  Thankfully, no one was standing there to witness the two of them in their passionate embrace.  They pulled apart just long enough for Arthur to smooth his hands over his now wrinkled shirt and they stepped out of the lift, hand in hand.  They stumbled along the hall, stopping every once and a while to pull each other closer and press drunken kisses to any and all exposed flesh.

When they reached the door of Alfred’s suite, it took him a few tries to slide his key card through the door reader before the telltale click of unlocking was heard.  They fell backwards into the room, swinging the door shut behind them.  Alfred’s large hands pulled at Arthur’s shirt and had it up over his head before the Englishman even knew what was happening.  He helped Alfred out of his t-shirt as well, and they fell hard onto the unmade bed in the center of the room.

Arthur lifted his hips, grinding himself against Alfred as the American sucked sloppily on his neck.  He could feel himself getting harder by the second and he wanted there to be less clothing.  Groaning, he reached down to unbuckle his belt.  When Alfred realized what he was up to, he placed his hands over Arthur’s and pulled Arthur’s belt out with one swift movement.  Pants and trousers were soon littered on the floor by their shoes and shirts.  They writhed naked together on the top of the bed, their erections sliding against each other.  Arthur marveled at how hot and smooth Alfred’s skin was.  He ran his hands down Alfred’s taut back and dug his nails in just a little.

Alfred rolled off of him, and Arthur felt the loss.  He was about to shout at the other man before he saw that Alfred was opening a well-used bottle of lube.  Alfred squirted some of the stuff into his palm and then began to rub his coated hand over his dick.  After a few strokes, he reached down and placed a single finger to Arthur’s entrance.  Arthur felt himself twitch as Alfred’s finger entered him so very slowly.  One, two and three fingers pushed into him over the course of the next few minutes.  Alfred was leaning over him, kissing his cheeks and neck as he toyed with Arthur’s hole.

It felt like hours later that Alfred removed his fingers and Arthur gasped as his ass clenched as the fingers left him.  Soon enough though, Alfred was lined up above him, and Arthur couldn’t wait.  He bucked his hips and impaled himself on Alfred’s hard dick in one thrust.  Alfred cried out as he entered Arthur and the Englishman reached up, trying to pull Alfred closer.

The thrusts were deep and hard and fast.  Arthur was holding on for dear life as Alfred moved above him in a spastic rhythm.  Their chests brushed and Arthur’s ass was burning.  It felt so good, so amazing.  He began to gasp in time with the thrusts as Alfred banged into his prostate.  Arthur felt as though he was flying.  He never wanted this to end.  Through his drunken haze, he called out Alfred’s name and relished the feeling of the larger man sliding in and out of him.

Suddenly Alfred tensed and Arthur clamped his muscles down onto Alfred’s hard cock.  He could feel Alfred’s legs shaking slightly as he came hard and deep into Arthur.  Moments later, Arthur felt himself let go.  His seed spurted out from his dick and coated his and Alfred’s stomach.  He shuddered through the orgasm and his legs went weak.  He could feel the weight of Alfred on top of him, the other man still buried deep inside.

Slowly, Alfred pulled out and Arthur sighed.  He was drunk and sated and he hadn’t felt this good in such a long time.  Alfred pushed Arthur’s legs up onto the bed and crawled up next to him, flinging his arms around Arthur’s hot, sweaty body.  They lay, entwined in the dark room, their breathing heavy and Arthur slowly drifted off to sleep with come drying between his legs.

                        *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The sun shone into the window and blazed across the bed.  The two men were still naked and snuggled together, but Arthur didn’t register it as he opened his eyes.  He blinked angrily into the light and grimaced.  His head was killing him and his mouth tasted as though he had swallowed cotton.  He vaguely realized that he wasn’t alone and he turned, taking in the sight of Alfred’s naked, sleeping body next to him.  Arthur’s eyes widened in shock and glanced down at himself, hoping that he wasn’t naked.  He was.

He inched himself out from under Alfred’s grip and moved to the side of the bed, trying not to disturb the other man.  Once he was standing on the carpet, he stared at Alfred, his hungover mind playing pictures in his mind of the two of them together.  Kissing, groping, and finally having sex.  Arthur closed his eyes and shook his head.  How could he have been so stupid?

He reached down and pulled his trousers off of the floor and pulled them on quickly.  He located his shirt and socks and shoes and donned them as well.  Once he was finally dressed he glanced at Alfred once more.  The other man was still fast asleep.  Arthur hurried to the door and exited the room.  He ran all the way to his own suite, a bright red blush creeping across his features.  This was going to be a problem.

                                    *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

**Chapter Four:**

The small recording studio was stifling and all of them were moving around on their stools, wishing they were somewhere else. Alfred's headphones itched and he wanted to take them off, but he knew that if he did there would be hell to pay. "Once more," a woman's voice came through the microphone into the room and urged them to continue. They had been at it for six hours already trying to lay down the tracks of their new album. The label wanted it released before their first show in a few weeks.

Alfred chanced a glance a few seats down to where Arthur was perched on the edge of his stool. He had been moving around on it for the last few hours looking incredibly uncomfortable. Alfred tried not to think why sitting might be painful for the other man, but he couldn't help but relive their torrid night. He had been trying to talk to Arthur about it for two days, but every time he walked over toward the Englishman, Arthur would disappear or start a conversation with someone else. Alfred didn't want what he had to say to be overheard, so he kept giving up. But he was going to succeed. He was going to talk about this with Arthur if it killed him.

After they had finished the latest song, the door from the booth opened and a statuesque woman entered the recording area. She had flowing hair and bright green dress on her impressive curves. "I'm Elizabeta," she announced. "I'm the head of the label and I just stopped down to see how you boys were doing. You sound great!" She praised them with a smile. "I have a good feeling about you all."

They thanked her and watched as she turned and left. The disembodied voice from the booth came back over the microphones. "Francis, you were a little flat on the last chorus and Alfred, I need some more volume. Arthur, you need to act like you even care about this, you're just sitting there. Give it more."

The beginning strains of music picked up once again and Alfred shot a glance at Arthur. The Englishman looked haggard and pale. He shifted on his stool once more and grimaced and Alfred almost missed his cue to come in due to his attention being on Arthur. He barely covered his gaffe and he knew they would have to sing the song again because of him. He vowed to pay attention to what he was doing and put Arthur out of his mind. He would find a way to corner the other man after they were done with work. His career did come first after all.

* * *

"Arthur didn't seem himself today," Yao commented as he pressed the button to call the elevator at their hotel later that afternoon. "He hasn't seemed right for a few days," the attractive Chinese man mused. Ivan didn't respond. He simply held his hand out to hold the elevator door when it opened, allowing Yao to step in before him. "What do you think is going on?" Yao turned to Ivan.

"I couldn't care less," the hulking Russian man said, his eyes lidded. "I am only concerned with you."

"You need to stop speaking to me in such ways," Yao chided.

The elevator doors closed and Ivan stepped closer to Yao, his height allowing his to tower over the shorter man. "I will speak to you how I wish," he said. "You like it."

Yao blushed a bright red and looked down at the floor. They were alone, but he felt as though all the world were watching them. "I cannot, you know that," he insisted and took a step away from the Russian. He was going to fight this attraction, no matter how hard it was.

The lift pinged and the doors slid open revealing Alfred standing in the hall waiting for the ride. "Hey guys, what's up?" he said. Although he was smiling, it didn't reach his eyes.

"We are just going to retire for a while before dinner," Yao said.

"Together?" Alfred raised a brow.

"Yes," Ivan grunted at the same time Yao hissed, "No!"

"Whatever," Alfred stepped on to the elevator and rode with them a few floors before he got off and wandered away.

Yao breathed a sigh of relief when the American member of their band was finally gone. He needed time alone to think. When his floor arrived, he exited without a word to Ivan, but he felt the other man's eyes on him as the elevator doors slid shut.

* * *

Alfred hesitated outside of Arthur's room, his fist poised to knock on the door. He almost chickened out, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It was now or never. He was about to knock when the door swung open and Arthur stood in front of him. The Englishman let out a small yelp and slammed the door in Alfred's face. "Hey!" he shouted before finally knocking again. "Arthur, open the damn door!"

The door cracked open with the security chain in place and Arthur's green eyes peered out at him. "What do you want?"

"I want to talk to you," Alfred said. "You've been avoiding me."

"Of course I have," Arthur shouted. "What did you expect?"

"Let me in," Alfred begged. "Please? Just for a minute."

Arthur considered him for a moment before closing the door. Alfred could hear the chain sliding and then the door was open once again. Arthur looked apprehensive and glanced up at Alfred's face warily. "Come in," he said. "Before someone sees you."

Alfred rolled his eyes good-naturedly and entered the room. Arthur quickly closed the door behind them and turned to face Alfred. "You wanted to talk? Hurry it up then."

"You're really in a hurry to get me out of here aren't you?" Alfred sounded amused. "What did I do to upset you so much?"

Arthur blushed fiercely. "You slept with me," he accused.

"So?" Alfred shrugged. "You slept with me too."

"I was drunk."

"So was I."

"We shouldn't have done it," Arthur said after a pause. "It was a mistake."

Alfred was slightly taken aback. "I don't think it was a mistake."

"You didn't even use a condom," Arthur snapped. "I don't know what kind of diseases you have. Now I could have anything from you because you were too stupid to—"

"Hey," Alfred interrupted. He had gone a little pale when Arthur had spoken. He _had_ forgotten a condom. He'd never done that before. No glove, no love was his motto. How could he have been that stupid? He had been so overcome with lust and more than a little tipsy and it had slipped his mind. Damn. "I didn't mean to," he said dumbly. "I forgot. I'm sorry." He looked into Arthur's eyes and saw the British man's features were furious. "I'm clean, I swear it."

"How am I supposed to believe that?" Arthur crossed his arms.

"I'll get a blood test," Alfred offered. "But you have to as well, okay?"

"Fine," Arthur agreed quickly. "As soon as possible."

"Deal," Alfred nodded.

They stood in silence for a while, staring at anything but each other. "We probably shouldn't mention this to anyone else," Arthur finally said.

"Agreed," Alfred smiled at him. "It can be our secret."

"Yes," Arthur nodded once, firmly. "No one needs to know that anything happened. You heard the manager, we could be in a lot of trouble if anyone were to find out that we…you know…"

"Know what?" Alfred grinned.

"Slept together."

"Made love?" Alfred winked.

"Nothing of the sort," Arthur scoffed. "It was just scratching a mutual itch. Nothing more."

"If you say so," Alfred took a step toward Arthur. He could feel his feet moving closer to the other man but it was as if he had no control over what he was doing. He was drawn to Arthur like a moth to flame. It was dangerous and intoxicating.

They were mere inches from one another by now and Arthur was looking up at him with half-lidded eyes. They were such a brilliant green that Alfred felt as though he were lost on a stormy sea. He leaned his head down and captured Arthur's lips with his own. He expected resistance, not the shorter man throwing his arms around his neck and pulling him down into a deep kiss. He slid his tongue into Arthur's mouth and felt the other man open up to him. He was grasping Arthur's hips and pulling his closer and Arthur was letting him. They slid against one another and Alfred was embarrassed that he was already hard, but Arthur was too and that was so incredibly hot.

They kissed hard and fast, there was nothing tender about it. It was need and want clashing together. "The loo," Arthur moaned.

"What?" Alfred pulled away confused.

"My supplied are in the bathroom," Arthur clarified, his breath coming in short gasps. Alfred understood immediately and broke away, practically dashing toward the tiny en-suite restroom.

He could hear Arthur moving around in the other room and he was digging through small bags as fast as he could. Finally he found what he was looking for. Lube and condoms tucked away together in the bottom of the third bag. He grabbed them and ran out into the room. Arthur was lounging naked on the bed.

Alfred's mouth dropped open. He couldn't handle how gorgeous Arthur looked with his tousled hair and pale skin and sizeable erection pressed against his stomach. He looked so confident and relaxed and oh, how Alfred wanted him. He shed his clothes as fast as possible while Arthur watched him and then crawled onto the bed to join the other man. He straddled Arthur's waist and they kissed for a while until Arthur moaned that he needed him and that was all Alfred had to hear. He grabbed the condom and ripped it open, rolling it down over his shaft. He was so sensitive right now, he didn't know if he could hold out.

Once he was all dressed up, he grabbed Arthur's hips and flipped the smaller man over onto his stomach. Arthur let out a sqwak as he was turned. Alfred scooted down onto the bed and pulled Arthur up as he went so that the Englishman's pale rear was pointing up into the air. "I'm going to take you so hard Artie," he said in a husky voice. He admired the position that Arthur was in; on his knees, ass up, waiting to be taken. It was the hottest thing Alfred had ever seen.

"I'm already prepared," Arthur turned his head and glanced at him with a sly look.

"Are you?" Alfred's heartbeat sped up.

"I was thinking of you in the shower earlier," Arthur admitted and his cheeks flushed pink.

"Naughty," Alfred placed a light smack onto Arthur's bottom, reveling in the bright handprint he left on Arthur's perfect skin.

After spreading lube on himself, he lined up and pulled on Arthur's ass cheeks so he could see the other man's entrance. With a gulp, he pressed forward, feeling the muscle give way. Arthur _had_ prepared himself. Alfred slid in easily and bottomed out into Arthur's ass. The British man gave a moan of pleasure and bucked his hips backwards. "More," Arthur cried out.

Alfred pulled his hips back and almost slid fully out of Arthur before slamming back in as hard as he could. His skin connected with Arthur and he felt the jolt all the way down to his toes. He began a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of Arthur's tight hole. When Arthur bucked backward and moaned, he knew he had found the right spot. He made sure to aim so that he was hammering against Arthur's prostate with every thrust.

Pleasure rode through him and he looked down to see that Arthur's head was buried in his hands and his fist was in his mouth to muffle the sounds he was making. "I want to hear you babe," he grunted as he gave a powerful thrust. Arthur pulled his hand away from his lips and screamed. "That's more like it," Alfred said, breathing hard.

He lifted his palm and kept up his intense pounding, bringing his hand down to smack against Arthur's ass cheek. The Englishman moaned with joy as he was spanked, and so Alfred did it again. He was riding Arthur as hard as he could, randomly bringing his palms down, and spanking Arthur's beautiful ass at different intervals. He felt a tight grip on his cock and looked down. Arthur was shaking and coming all over the bed. Alfred gave three more hard thrusts, pounding into Arthur before he came himself, deep inside the smaller man.

His body jerked as he came and he ended up pressed very deep into Arthur's asshole. The British man had almost collapsed on the bed, come dripping from his tip. Alfred could see the indentations in Arthur's hips where he was gripping the other man. He hadn't come that hard…ever.

Sliding his cock out of Arthur, Alfred watched as he exited his new lover. It was so erotic, he started to get hard again. Arthur flopped on the bed and turned over underneath him. He eyed Alfred's half erection and raised a brow. "Ready for another go?" he asked in his posh accent.

"Possibly," Alfred smiled. "When I catch my breath."

"Hurry up then," Arthur smiled up at him, spreading his legs and gripping his own penis in his delicate hands. "We've got all night." Alfred leaned down to press a kiss to Arthur's lips and his erection popped right back up again. He could get used to this.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little fluff to balance out all the smut...

**Chapter Five:**

It was after midnight and the moonlight was washing across the bed. Alfred and Arthur were entwined in each other's arms and Arthur pressed himself against Alfred's chest and sighed. This was lovely. He wasn't much for cuddling but something about being wrapped in Alfred's strong arms was comforting and wonderful.

He rolled over so that he was facing Alfred, expecting to see him asleep, but Alfred's bright blue eyes were staring right back at him. "Hi," Alfred whispered into the darkness.

"Hello," Arthur smiled.

"Artie," Alfred said, his voice a question.

"Don't call me that," Arthur scoffed, but secretly he liked it.

"Can we keep doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"This," Alfred gestured with his free hand and then placed it back onto Arthur's bare hip. "Can we keep sleeping together? I know we aren't supposed to," Alfred said quickly. "But I can't help myself around you. You're so sexy."

Arthur could feel the blush rising on his neck. "You're rather attractive as well," he admitted. "I," he paused. "I suppose we could. But it would have to be a secret."

"Keep it on the down low," Alfred nodded against his pillow. "I can do that."

"That means no kissing, no sex, nothing while we are outside of our rooms," Arthur insisted. "I'm not going to throw away my career for this."

"I'm not willing to do that either," Alfred said a little affronted. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Arthur's lips. "I can keep a secret. Don't worry about it."

"Good," Arthur said, his thoughts turning to mush at the small kisses Alfred was pressing all over his face. "That's settled then."

"Awesome," Alfred said, rolling over so he was lying on top of Arthur. "Now let me make you scream again," he offered, sucking on Arthur's neck.

As Alfred pressed into him once more, Arthur felt as though there was nothing in the world that could be better than this. He screamed out his orgasm into the night and after it was all over, he finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Yao spoke rapid Chinese into the phone until he heard the knock on the door. He quickly hung up with his father who was pressuring him once more to find a lovely girl to settle down with and walked to the door of his suite.

Ivan stood in the hall, balancing a tray of food under a large silver cover. "I knew you ordered from room service, so I offered to bring it up to you," the large man said.

"You shouldn't have done that," Yao said, but his heart wasn't in it. He was secretly pleased.

Ivan stepped into the spacious room and walked to the small coffee table, setting the tray on it lightly. He then sat on the sofa and looked expectantly at Yao who was still standing at the door. Yao sighed and walked over to join him. They sat on the small couch, their thighs brushing and Ivan watched him eat. Yao felt as though it should have been disturbing, but instead it was oddly comforting. It was as though Ivan wanted to take care of him. No one had ever taken care of Yao before and the feeling was new and he liked it.

* * *

As the five of them exited the hotel that morning, Alfred had to resist the urge to hold Arthur's hand. He knew that it was a secret, but he desperately wanted to touch Arthur. No sooner had they stepped out of the sliding doors when flashbulbs began to go off all around them. There were young girls holding signs with their faces and screaming their names. Francis was blowing kisses into the crowd and Alfred laughed when he saw Arthur rolling his eyes at the Frenchman's antics.

They stopped for a while to sign some autographs and pose for a few pictures before climbing into their large black van. They were whisked away to the recording studio for another day of work.

At first they just sang a few songs that they had rehearsed the previous day, but after lunch, Elizabeta had reappeared with some sheet music, saying that she was excited to hear what they made with this song. She was gone just as quickly and Alfred took the time to pour over the new music as he stuffed a large sandwich into his mouth.

It was a love ballad. Alfred could tell that from the lyrics alone. _I want you, I need you, I can't live without you._ Other equally sappy phrases adorned the entire thing and Alfred knew that despite the triteness of the song, it was going to be a hit. When it came time for them to start singing, he took the lead and crooned his best into the microphone in front of him, but his eyes kept straying to Arthur. He couldn't stop losing himself in those big green eyes as he sang about love and wanting and longing. Something about Arthur just drew him in. He knew, somewhere in a place that he wasn't willing to admit to just yet, that he was singing those words to Arthur and Arthur alone. By the end of the song, Alfred had poured his heart and soul into it and Arthur sat on his chair steadfastly looking away, a bright red blush gracing his features.

* * *

Francis watched the entire exchange and an idea began to form in the young Frenchman's mind.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW with a little voyeurism thrown in...

**Chapter Six:**

The next few weeks leading up to their first show were hectic and intense. There wasn't much time for personal things, but Alfred and Arthur still found moments where they could meet, late at night and have a little fun. Sometimes they were fast and furious and other times their lovemaking was tender and romantic. They both enjoyed either way. They worked very hard to keep things between them a secret, and so far, no one had said anything to either of them about the situation.

Arthur still remained nervous, however. He was convinced that their luck wouldn't hold out. There was a particularly eventful costume fitting where the designer almost walked in on them in a torrid embrace. They managed to break apart as quickly as possible and explain the situation away, but Arthur insisted that from then on, they try to keep their distance in public.

Arthur pulled on his tight leather pants in his dressing room and looked at himself in the mirror. The pants made his legs look longer and they laced at the crotch which he found to be very sexy. He couldn't wait to see what Alfred though of his outfit. He finished dressing and decided to go find himself a bottle of water in the green room before the show was set to begin. They still had an hour until the opening act was finished. Some girl group that was also up-and-coming was performing now. He could hear the screams of the audience through the walls.

Making his way down the dimly lit hallway toward the waiting area, he ran his fingers along the wall as he walked. Suddenly, he felt eyes on him and he looked up. Alfred was standing there staring at him, his mouth open. The American had obviously just exited his own dressing room and was closing the door behind him.

"Wow Artie," Alfred breathed. "Just…wow."

"You look rather good yourself Jones," Arthur acknowledged. Alfred did look amazing. His shirt brought out the color of his eyes and made his skin look even smoother and more tan than it usually did. Arthur felt his breath catch in his throat.

They watched each other for a moment, simply taking in the view and admiring how good the other looked. Alfred took a step toward him and Arthur reciprocated. He wanted to feel his fingers in Alfred's hair and even though it was dangerous, he couldn't seem to stop. They met in a fierce kiss, Arthur pulling Alfred down hard toward him. Seconds later, they broke apart and each of them scanned the deserted hallway to make sure they were alone.

"Come with me," Alfred said. He grabbed Arthur's hand and pulled him down the hallway.

"Where are you taking me?" Arthur asked as he was dragged along behind his lover.

"In here," Alfred pulled open a door a few paces down from where they were standing. It was a broom cupboard.

"You want me to go inside there?" Arthur glared up into Alfred's eyes.

"No one will look for us in here," Alfred tugged on Arthur's hand.

Rolling his eyes, the Englishman obliged and entered the cramped, darkened closet. As soon as the door was shut behind them, sealing them in the blackness, Arthur felt Alfred's hands on him and he let out a moan.

Alfred backed him into the wall and ran his hands down Arthur's sides. It felt amazing to be touched by such an attractive man. Arthur couldn't get enough. They kissed deeply and all thoughts of being caught flew from Arthur's mind. He craved Alfred. He needed the other man's touch like he needed air.

"These pants are so sexy," Alfred whispered into his ear before sucking on the lobe. "I want to take them off of you."

"Then do it," Arthur challenged.

Alfred ran his fingers across the laces in the front of Arthur's leather pants, his fingers lightly dancing over the fabric and teasing Arthur mercilessly. He wanted Alfred to hurry it up; he needed him to. Arthur could feel Alfred's fingers working the laces and finally, _finally_ exposing him. He was already getting hard as Alfred's fingers squeezed his cock as the American continued his onslaught of kisses.

He felt Alfred pull away and he began to protest. Alfred placed a finger on his lips and shushed him. In the darkness he couldn't see what the other man was doing, but then he felt it. Soft lips encircling his cock and swallowing him down. Arthur lolled his head back and it hit the wall. Alfred was deep-throating him and Arthur couldn't take the feeling. It was amazing. He felt himself hit the back of Alfred's throat and he unconsciously bucked his hips, wanting to go deeper. Alfred pulled off of him and licked up his shaft, following the large vein on the underside of Arthur's penis.

A hand reached up and gently massaged his sac and Arthur cried out again as he felt Alfred's lips go around his tip. The pressure was building low in his belly and he could feel his release coming soon. There was a noise that Arthur didn't recognize and the door to the closet swung open. Light poured into the tiny room and showed exactly what was happening.

Arthur's eyes flew open but he couldn't seem to stop pumping into Alfred's mouth. For his part, Alfred acted as though he didn't even notice that someone was standing there and he continued to lick and suck Arthur's cock deep into his mouth. Arthur's terrified gaze met Francis' and their eyes locked.

Trying to stop his movements, Arthur pressed his bare bottom against the wall, attempting to pull his dick out of Alfred's mouth, but the American gripped his hips and sucked him in once more, paying no attention to the interruption. Arthur bucked and groaned, all the while holding Francis' gaze.

"Well, well," Francis chuckled. "This is certainly interesting."

"Get out!" Arthur managed to choke out in a scream.

Francis laughed and shut the door, placing them in darkness once more. Arthur immediately spilled into Alfred's mouth and felt the other man swallow. Sighing with relief as Alfred stood, wiping the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand Arthur could just make out the American's face.

"I guess we'll have to deal with that," Alfred said, his voice laughing a bit.

"Dear god," Arthur closed his eyes and thunked the back of his head against the wall.

He reached down and pulled up his pants, hastily re-tying them and trying to get decent. He knew that they would have to face Francis now and he was dreading it. The lovely feeling of orgasm was replaced by a dark hole in the pit of his stomach. When he was re-dressed, Alfred grabbed the handle of the door and opened it into the hall. He held it open for Arthur who exited first. He came face to face with Francis leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed and smiling at them.

"It seems that we have business to discuss, mon ami," Francis laughed.

"What do you mean? Business?" Arthur asked suspiciously.

Francis waved his hand and looked at them both. "I'm sure you don't want this little tryst to get out," he started.

"No!" Arthur shouted. "You wouldn't!"

"I would," Francis' voice was serious now. "But, I could be persuaded to keep your little secret for…a price."

Alfred glanced at Arthur, whose face had went pale. "Anything," Alfred glared at Francis. "Whatever you want."

Francis clapped his hands together with glee. "That was too easy," he smiled. "You really are a terrible negotiator."

"You're not going to hurt Arthur," Alfred gritted his teeth.

Arthur was standing stock still until his head began to shake back and forth. "Don't give in to him Alfred," he whispered.

"But it's nothing really," Francis said. He turned to look at Alfred and tilted his head. "I just want a date with that charming sister of yours."

"What?" Alfred said in confusion. "You want to go out with Madeline?"

"You don't even know her," Arthur snapped.

Francis shrugged. "I watched the show. I saw when they interviewed all of our friends and family. And mon ami," he turned to Alfred. "Your twin sister is absolutely…delicious."

"Don't think about her like that," Alfred snarled.

"Have it your way," Francis smirked. "You can get the lovely Madeline to go to dinner with me or I can call our manager and Elizabeta right now." He pulled out his cell phone and waved it at them.

Alfred seemed to be considering the proposal. "Just dinner?"

"That is all I ask," Francis said.

There was a moment of silence and Alfred's jaw moved. "Fine," he gritted his teeth. "Just one dinner. I'll call her tonight. But you better not try anything with her or I'll kick your ass."

"That's fair," Francis said calmly.

"And if you breathe a word about what you saw _I'll_ kick your arse," Arthur glared at his childhood frenemy.

Francis laughed and walked away leaving the lovers alone in the hallway staring guiltily at one another. This was getting out of hand.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for some angst and NSFW in this chapter. Also Franada is coming...

**Chapter Seven:**

The phone call with his fraternal twin sister Madeline was one of the most uncomfortable conversations of Alfred's life. He had never asked her for such a favor before and it made his stomach crawl. He knew when he promised to speak with her that she would agree to the date, simply to help him out. Maddy was like that. She was always there for him; always the sibling that could be counted on to pull through. Alfred loved that about her, but it made him feel horrible that he was basically pimping her out to a sleazy Frenchman.

Madeline didn't ask a lot of questions, she just got the point that her beloved brother was in trouble and needed her help. She was absolutely willing to go out to dinner with Francis if it helped Alfred and he was grateful for her cooperation. When he finally hung up the phone, after setting a time and place for her to meet Francis, he collapsed against his bed with a sigh.

This just felt so wrong, but it couldn't be helped. They needed Francis to keep his huge mouth shut and this was the only way. Maddy didn't seem to mind too much. She had even remarked that Francis was rather attractive. That was a big thing for Alfred's introverted sister who hadn't seemed to ever show a preference for anyone before. Maybe this wouldn't turn out to be a disaster. Alfred could hope.

He sent a text to Arthur. _'Everything is taken care of.'_

Almost immediately he received a response. _'Good.'_

Alfred paused a moment before he picked his phone back up and texted Arthur once again. _'What are you wearing?'_

* * *

The next few days were a blur of rehearsals and shows at night. No one was getting enough sleep and the entire group was testy and snapping at one another. No one was more snarky than Arthur was toward Francis though and it was beginning to raise suspicion.

"Arthur seems to be in a rather bad mood as of late," Yao mentioned casually as Ivan walked him to his room after that evening's show.

"It does not concern me," Ivan said quietly.

"I think he's hiding something," Yao observed.

"You mean just like _we_ are hiding something?" Ivan stopped in front of Yao's door and turned to the smaller man.

"We aren't hiding anything," Yao tried to insist, but the protestation was weak.

"You will not date me," Ivan pointed out. "You are afraid of your father."

"I'm not afraid," Yao lifted his chin in defiance.

"I like when you are feisty," Ivan complimented him.

The larger man took a step toward Yao and reached up with one large hand to cup Yao's cheek. His thumb rubbed circles on Yao's face and they simply stared into one another's eyes for what seemed like hours. Finally Ivan bent his head and pressed his lips softly against Yao's mouth. The kiss lasted only a few seconds, but when Ivan pulled away, Yao was lightheaded from the rush.

"Now you have something to hide, da?" Ivan smiled down at him. Without another word, he turned and stalked away down the hall leaving Yao with a tingling feeling and the beginnings of worry pooling in his gut.

* * *

Madeline stood nervously in the entrance of the restaurant where she had agreed to meet Francis. Her hands were clasped together and she glanced around, not seeing the smarmy Frenchman anywhere. Someone tapped on her shoulder and she spun, her bright eyes meeting Francis' face. "For you, my lady," Francis waved his hand and produced a single, perfect red rose. He then placed his hand on the small of her back and led her toward the woman who was seating the patrons. "Reservation for two," he said in his charming accent. "Bonnefoy. A table near the window please."

The woman tittered at Francis for a moment, and Madeline narrowed her eyes at the hostess' blatant ogle of her date. She latched her hand onto Francis' arm possessively. If she was going to be bullied into this date, then she was going to make sure that the only woman Francis noticed that night was her. She needn't have worried. Francis didn't notice the hostess or any of the other patrons as he weaved through the restaurant with Madeline on his arm.

When they reached their table, he pulled out her chair and waited until she was seated before crossing the table and taking his own place. "Mon Cherie," he smiled at her. "You look exquisite tonight."

Madeline ducked her head and blushed. She wasn't sure how to respond to that so she said nothing. Francis smiled genuinely at her and began to speak as he picked up the menu. He chatted in his adorable accent, asking her all about herself. At one point Madeline even got up the courage to say something to him in French, to which he exclaimed with delight. "I knew you were a woman after my own heart!" They did not speak any English for the rest of the night.

* * *

After a very enjoyable evening spent in each other's arms in the large bathtub in Alfred's suite, the two lovers woke up and stretched in unison. "I'm glad I stayed the night tonight," Arthur said with a mischievous look in his eyes.

"Why's that?" Alfred asked him, rolling over to face the Englishman.

"Because now I can do this," Arthur pulled himself up on top of Alfred and kissed him soundly on the lips.

They embraced and continued to kiss for a while until both of their erections were straining against one another. When they couldn't hold back any longer, Arthur climbed over Alfred and straddled his hips. He lowered himself onto Alfred's cock and began to slowly ride the other man. The muscles in Alfred's neck were strained at the friction and the slow pace of their love-making.

Just as they were getting into their rhythm, Alfred's phone rang on the bedside table, loud and shrill. Alfred reached over and looked at the display. "It's our manager," he said, his eyebrows narrowing.

"So answer it," Arthur said breathily, still pumping himself onto Alfred, his eyes shut in ecstasy.

"Stop," Alfred reached up and placed a hand on Arthur's hip to try and still the Englishman. Arthur laughed and shook his head, continuing to move. Alfred rolled his eyes and answered the phone. "Yeah," he said into the receiver, a little out of breath. "Uh huh," he squeaked at Arthur slid down his length slowly, a sly grin along his features. Arthur lifted up as high as he could go and then slammed himself back down, fucking Alfred hard into him. "Yeah, we'll be right there," Alfred screamed into the phone and hung up. He tossed the device onto the bed and groaned as Arthur continued to ride him.

"What was all that about?" Arthur asked innocently.

"They want to see us for something, I don't know," Alfred said dismissively. "They're expecting us downstairs in the conference room in ten minutes."

"Well then you'd better hurry up," Arthur cooed into Alfred's ear as he rode him ever harder. Alfred shouted in pleasure and nodded his head. Arthur was pure torture. Excellent, and amazing torture.

* * *

The tabloid magazine snapped down on the table of the conference room, the pages making a noise that echoed into the silence. "You were seen!" their manager shouted.

The picture on the front of the paper was burned into Arthur's mind. It showed him and Alfred, their hands clasped and they were leaning toward each other as though they were about to kiss. He remembered the moment. They had kissed immediately afterward. It had been short because they were outside of the hotel and didn't want anyone to see them, but they hadn't been able to resist each other. He was shocked that the actual kiss wasn't the picture on the front page of the gossip rag. The photographer hadn't been lucky. Good for them, at least. They could possibly explain away the way they were standing, but a kiss would have doomed them.

"What do you have to say for yourselves?" Their manager shrieked at them. "After I clearly explained that there was to be no fraternization at all, for any reason! You have the nerve to do something like this and get caught!"

"Sorry," Alfred mumbled.

"Sorry? Sorry!" the man before them had wild eyes and was gesturing with his arms. "No sorry. This is going to stop. You can't be seen in a gay relationship if you hope to sell records. It just isn't going to happen. Do you understand?"

Slowly, both Alfred and Arthur nodded. They looked up at their manager sheepishly. Arthur's face burned red at the embarrassment of being lectured like a child.

"This stops today," the manager glared at them. "No more _anything_ between you two. Ever. I don't even want you to go out for drinks or to the club if there isn't another member of the group present. You cannot look like a couple under any circumstances."

"But—" Alfred tried to protest.

"No." The manager was firm. "No more. This is done. You're done. Can you do that?"

"Yes sir," Arthur said, looking at the table and clasping his hands tightly in his lap.

"Good."

Alfred looked mutinous but he still nodded his head. He understood the gravity of the situation. They were going to have to end this. Whatever this was. It was now over, for the sake of the music. Arthur felt hollow as he stood and exited the room with Alfred on his heels. The door slammed shut behind them and they stood in the hallway of the hotel just off of the lobby. "I'm going to kill him," Alfred growled after a moment.

"Who?"

"Francis," Alfred looked at him. "He's the only one who knew. He must have told that photographer the best place to catch us. He's the one who did this."

Arthur didn't say anything for a moment. "I guess this is it," he finally spoke after a few tense minutes of silence.

"Yeah," Alfred said, looking at the floor.

"It was good while it lasted," Arthur tried to sound casual, but it felt like his heart was breaking.

"At least we got one more in this morning," Alfred said. He sounded flip, but his eyes looked flat as he met Arthur's gaze.

"I have to go," Arthur said, his heart clenching. He turned and hurried off down the hall toward the elevators. He waited until he was in his room before he locked the door and allowed one single tear to fall down his cheek.

* * *

Yao tilted his head back and allowed Ivan access to his neck. The larger man was bent over him and lavishing his soft skin with kisses. Their arms were tight around one another and their breath was getting uneven. "We can't," Yao tried to protest and push himself away.

Ivan held on to him tighter and pressed his lips to the hollow of Yao's throat. "Why not?"

"You know why," Yao insisted, still accepting the kisses fervently.

"Just because those idiots were stupid enough to be caught does not mean that we will be," Ivan said, pulling back and looking deep into Yao's dark eyes. "Besides, that man does not scare me. He cannot intimidate me away from you."

"We should still be careful," Yao whispered as he tilted his head up to take another kiss from Ivan's mouth.

"Da," Ivan said in a husky tone. "We will be. But for now, you are mine."

The larger man's strong arms encircled Yao's waist, pulling him close. Ivan's lips met his softly, his tongue moving and probing to enter Yao's mouth. Yao relented. He couldn't say no to Ivan. Not when he felt like this. The other man was right. They would not be caught as Alfred and Arthur had been. They would remain a secret. They had to—for Yao's sake.

* * *

The pounding on the door was getting incessant and obnoxious. Alfred was sitting on the sofa in his suite with the television on and pretending that he was paying attention to the entertainment show that was playing. Madeline sat next to him, quiet and watching him with a worried expression on her face. "Maybe I should let him in?" she suggested.

"No," Alfred glared at the television without looking at his sister.

"Just hear him out," she pleaded. "I'm sure the hotel will send security soon if he doesn't stop and that would just be another scandal that your band doesn't need."

Alfred considered her for a moment before he turned back to the show. "Fine."

Madeline got up from the couch and made her way to the door. Francis' voice was louder as she approached. She pulled the door open and revealed the disheveled Frenchmen standing there. His fist was raised to knock again and he looked surprised that she had opened the door. "Mon Cherie," he said in relief. "Please, let me explain."

She stepped aside and allowed him to enter the room. Francis hurried past her and approached Alfred who was sitting straight and unnaturally in his seat. "Alfred," he began. "I do not know what to say, but it wasn't me."

"Then who was it Francis?" Alfred spat. "No one else knew about us. Just you."

"I swear," Francis said in a loud voice. "I promised that I would not say anything and I didn't." He turned to Madeline. "You believe me, don't you?"

She didn't move or say anything. She just looked past him to her brother. Alfred stood up and turned to face Francis, towering over the other man. "Get out you traitor," Alfred's voice was menacing.

Francis took a tentative step backwards, as though intimidated and he glanced quickly at Madeline. "You believe me, yes?" he tried again.

Slowly, Madeline shook her head and moved around him to stand at Alfred's side. She faced off against the man who had so charmed her the night before and regretted that she had given him a goodnight kiss. If Alfred was convinced that the culprit was Francis then she would stand by her brother…for now.

Francis' eyes went dark and he looked between the siblings for a few seconds. Seeing nothing in their eyes he hung his head and left the suite without another word. The door clicked closed after him. Alfred turned and sat back down, staring at the television and watching a report about his 'alleged love affair' with another member of his band. He stared blankly at the television for the rest of the night and thought of nothing but Arthur.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arthur makes some bad choices in this chapter, but don't worry. Only Alfred for our little Englishman...

**Chapter Eight:**

Arthur sank into the tub in his hotel room and allowed himself to be surrounded by warm water and a liberal amount of bubble bath. He lazily splashed his hand in the water and picked up a handful of bubbles. He listless let his hand drop beneath the surface of the water and stared unseeing at the bathroom around him. He felt sick. He had skipped out of rehearsal that afternoon because he couldn't face seeing Alfred. He had told their manager that he had a stomach virus, but he knew that the man didn't believe him. No one did. They all knew why he was hiding away in his room.

He hadn't turned on the television or radio since the day before because whenever he did he was assaulted with that picture. It was as if every news station in the country was running with the story, speculating about his sexuality and his relationship with Alfred. Relationship—ha! There wasn't any kind of a relationship, not anymore. Arthur sank lower into the tub and pursed his lips. His stomach churned and he closed his eyes, trying to push the image of the photograph from his mind. It didn't work.

Deciding that the bath wasn't helping, Arthur got out and toweled himself off. When he was dry, he walked naked into the main room of his suite and flopped down on the bed. The room was dark now that the sun had set. He curled up in a ball, and lay there without moving as the time ticked slowly by. He felt terrible, but he wasn't going to allow himself to cry anymore.

* * *

_He missed Arthur._ Alfred was down in the hotel restaurant with Madeline and picking at his food. He moved some things around on the plate with his fork and didn't speak. Madeline was trying to keep the conversation going but even she had begun to give up. Alfred had retreated in on himself and nothing was going to pull him out of his funk.

"Are you okay?" Madeline finally asked him.

Alfred shrugged. "I'm fine."

"No you're not," she set down her fork and stared at him. "You're pouting."

"I am not," Alfred pouted.

"Yes you are," Madeline spoke softly but firmly. "Just go and see Arthur."

Alfred glared at her. "I can't. Management said we can't be alone together anymore in case of more photos. I can't go see him. I can't go to his room. I can't call him. Nothing. And it's all because of Francis." Madeline shifted slightly in her chair and looked uncomfortable. "What?" Alfred glared.

"I just," Madeline began, picking up her fork again and stabbing a bit of fish. "I just don't think that it was Francis. He wouldn't do something like that. Not when he had promised you that he wouldn't. He's honorable."

Alfred snorted.

"He is," she insisted. "I just think you should give him a chance to explain. He said he didn't do it. It could have been anyone, someone from the hotel? A maid or a front desk clerk who needed extra cash? You never know."

Pursing his lips, Alfred looked hard at his sister. "You think?"

"I really feel like it wasn't Francis," she said firmly. "I've spoken with him and he denies it."

Alfred was quiet for a while before he picked up his own fork once more and said, "Fine. I'll talk to him."

* * *

They met in Francis' room because Alfred was having trouble looking at his own bed knowing that Arthur would never be in it again. Francis was graceful and immediately ushered the siblings into his own suite. He kissed Madeline on the cheek and poured some wine for the three of them. After an awkward silence, he finally spoke. "I am truly sorry mon ami," he said to Alfred. "I do not know who tipped off the tabloids, but I assure you that it was not moi."

Nodding, Alfred accepted his apology. "Okay, fine. It wasn't you."

Francis took a delicate sip of his red wine and sniffed the air. "What are you going to do now?"

"What do you mean?"

"To win back your man," Francis said the words as though it was obvious.

"I can't," Alfred protested.

"No," Francis glanced at him slyly. "You can. You are just afraid."

"I'm not afraid of anything!" Alfred shouted.

"Alfie," Madeline spoke up quietly. "He's right. You _could_ get Arthur back, you just don't want to get kicked out of the band." Alfred let the words sink in for a little while. "You're miserable without him, you know that."

"So," Francis spoke up once more. "As I said, what are you going to do about it?"

Alfred looked up with a determined set to his jaw. "You're right. It isn't worth it to be famous if I can't have Arthur with me. I want him back."

Francis clapped his hands together and made a refined whooping sound. "Excellent. Now, mon ami," he said. "Let us plot how to win back your man."

* * *

Walking into the hotel bar for the first time in a few nights, Arthur surveyed the room before taking his usual seat. He ordered a rum and took a few hearty sips before he sank back against the back of his stool. There were a few people in the bar around him but they paid him no mind, just as he wished. Tonight he had a look on his face that kept others away. Even the bartender who was usually chatty didn't engage him in small talk. He just kept ordering drinks, trying to forget.

The pain of missing Alfred these past few days was unbearable. He wanted to see the other man again. He wanted Alfred to hold him in his arms and fuck him slowly. But he knew that there would never be a chance for those feelings and moments again. Not if he wanted to maintain his career. The entire situation sickened him. He wanted nothing more than to feel Alfred's lips on his own, and he was willing to give it all up for a job. That's all singing was to him now. Without Alfred in his life, he felt hollow and empty.

The bar stool next to him was pulled out and a soft, accented voice asked, "Is this seat taken?"

Arthur turned at the familiar tone and looked up in the eyes of Kiku Honda. He hadn't seen the Japanese man since the last night of the show when Kiku had been the final contestant kicked off. "Kiku!" Arthur was surprised. "Whatever are you doing here?"

"Sometimes I come here to unwind," he slid into the chair next to Arthur and raised a finger at the bartender. A glass of wine was placed in front of him wordlessly. Obviously Kiku came here often. "You don't look well," Kiku observed sipping his drink.

Arthur snorted. "I feel like shite," he admitted.

"The pressure of the group?" Kiku asked politely.

"Not really," Arthur said. "Maybe."

Kiku nodded. "Love?" Arthur didn't respond. He stirred his drink with his pinky finger. "I understand," Kiku continued. "The pressure to find The One is so intense sometimes. Especially for me. My family doesn't understand my lifestyle all the time." Arthur looked at him quizzically but still did not say anything. "I enjoy the company of both men and women," Kiku finally said and turned away.

"You're bi?" Arthur finally spoke.

"I am," Kiku spoke softly. "They are fine with girls but they don't like me seeing men as well. I do my best not to care."

"I'm gay," Arthur said, immediately feeling a relief at speaking the words allowed to someone that he wasn't very close to.

"I had a feeling," Kiku nodded. "Too bad."

"What's too bad," Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"That you're obviously lovesick," Kiku turned and looked him directly in the eyes. "Because you're just my type."

"Oh am I?" Arthur smiled flirtatiously. It felt good to have an exchange with a handsome man and he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to try and forget about Alfred.

"You are," Kiku said in a firm tone. "Forgive me, I'm usually not so forward."

"I don't mind," Arthur spun his chair so their legs were brushing. "So you think I'm attractive?"

"Very," Kiku's voice took on a low tone.

"How about you buy me my next drink," Arthur said bravely. He wasn't usually so aggressive either. "And we can see where the night takes us?"

"I am amenable to that," Kiku said formally, waving his hand and pointing to their drinks. The bartender came over to attend to them and Kiku smiled at Arthur. "The gentleman's drink is on me."

Arthur took another sip of rum and smiled at the Japanese man. Perhaps this night wasn't going to be spent alone and drunkenly crying in his hotel room after all. It might be a little more pleasurable than that. Arthur knew that he had to get over Alfred and this seemed to be the perfect way.

* * *

He was leaning on Kiku's shoulder as they made their way down the hall toward Arthur's suite. He could barely stand upright, but what he was thinking didn't involve much standing. Kiku had a hard expression on his face and Arthur wasn't sure why. He ran his fingers down Kiku's arm lightly and smiled over at the other man. "So good of you to come up with me," he said in a sly tone.

They reached the door of his room and Kiku took the plastic key card from Arthur's hand, sliding it into the lock. When the light buzzed green, he opened the door and helped Arthur through the threshold. "Would you like a drink?" Arthur slurred.

"I think you've had enough," Kiku said, a little laughter in his voice.

Arthur turned to face the other man and placed his hands drunkenly on Kiku's shoulders. Kiku didn't move. Arthur closed his eyes and tilted his face, leaning in for a kiss. Kiku simply stepped away from him and walked over toward the door. Arthur opened his eyes, his expression hurt. "I should be going," Kiku motioned toward the door.

"I thought we were going to shag?" Arthur said, his voice tinged with the hurt of rejection.

"No," Kiku shook his head. "You are too drunk. And also you have talked of nothing but Alfred all night. You should go to him."

"I can't," Arthur said, hanging his head.

"Do not concern yourself with the band," Kiku said. "You love Alfred and from what you've said, he loves you as well. Go to him. Talk things over. Make it work."

"But if you just stay with me—" Arthur began.

"No," Kiku said firmly. "It is not me that you want. You are trying to cover the pain and I am not willing to be used in that way. Trust me, this is for the best." Kiku went to the door and exited the suite with nothing more to say. Arthur was left alone in the dark room contemplating what the Japanese man had said. Now he was hard and lonely and missed Alfred more than ever. He collapsed on the bed and curled into a ball.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More NSFW...

 

**Chapter Nine:**

There was a knock on the door of Yao's dressing room and the slim Chinese man turned to the sound. He rose gracefully and opened the door to reveal Ivan standing there waiting to be let in. The large man slid into the room wordlessly and shut the door, turning to face Yao. He towered over the smaller man with his superior height. They stepped toward one another and Ivan slid his arms around Yao's waist. Their lips pressed together softly and Ivan reached up to run his hands through Yao's silky hair.

"Are you ready for tonight?" Ivan pulled away and looked into Yao's eyes.

"As I'll ever be," Yao said, smiling at him. They were playing a show that evening. It was the first show they had performed since news of Alfred and Arthur had broken. The two men had been avoiding each other and the other members of the group. Since the day of that fateful tabloid picture, they had both been skipping rehearsals and no one was sure how the show would run that evening.

"Would you ever want the world to know that you are mine?" Ivan asked, his eyes serious.

Yao shook his head and stepped back. "You know we cannot. The public. My father. It is not possible."

"I don't care about any of those things—only you," Ivan insisted. They had been having this conversation for days and Yao wasn't budging. He had seen what happened to Alfred and Arthur and he wasn't going to fall into the same trap. Plus there was his family to think about. They would never approve. "You are not ready," Ivan finally spoke. "I will not speak of this again tonight. But this conversation is not over. One day, we will have to define what this is—and I don't like keeping secrets."

Yao nodded silently and stood on his tiptoes, leaning up toward Ivan for another sweet kiss. At least behind closed doors he could do what he wanted, everything else be damned.

* * *

Alfred steeled himself and pushed open the door to the public bathroom along the hallway leading to the stage. He knew that Arthur was in there. He had seen the other man duck into the room when he looked up and saw Alfred at the end of the hall. They had been avoiding each other like the plague. When Arthur had made eye contact with him and immediately ducked into the lavatory, Alfred narrowed his eyes and stalked down the hall. He opened the door and saw Arthur standing at the sink looking into the large mirror that ran the length of the room.

"What do you want?" Arthur said, his voice confrontation and tired at the same time.

"I want to talk to you," Alfred said, closing the door behind him.

No one else was in the room. They were alone for the first time in two weeks. It was exhilarating and Alfred wanted to be closer to Arthur's body. He had missed him so much and told the other man so. "I just want to be with you."

"We can't," Arthur looked down at the floor. "You know we can't. They've forbidden it."

"I don't care," Alfred insisted, taking another step toward Arthur. "I don't care what anyone says—I just want you in my life. I want to hold you and make love to you every night and be with you always."

Arthur looked up at him and their eyes met. It was electric what passed between them. Without words they fell into each other's arms, their mouths clashing together. Arthur's hands pulled Alfred's head toward him and Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist. Their bodies fit together perfectly and their palms roamed over each other's skin. Alfred was in heaven. The kissing was intense and primal. They needed each other like they needed air. The forced separation had only made their desire stronger.

They moved as one toward the brown bathroom stalls, their shoes echoing on the tile floor. They stumbled into one of the open stalls and entered. Alfred managed to shut the door behind them. It was a tight fit, cramped and smelly, but they didn't care. Their erections rubbed against one another through their tight jeans and Alfred gasped into Arthur's mouth at the friction.

He reached down and began to undo his zipper as Arthur did the same. Their fingers fumbled and the angles were awkward in such a tiny space. They knew what they were risking since this was a public restroom but they didn't seem to care. Anyone could walk in and catch them. They pushed against one another with need. Both sets of pants fell to the ground around their ankles. They stepped out of them, Arthur completely, but Alfred still had one leg of his jeans wrapped around his foot. Their skin was bare and Alfred placed his hands on either side of Arthur's head against the wall of the tiny partition.

The tips of their penises rubbed together and they both moaned. "Take me," Arthur begged. His voice was loud in the small room. "Take me Alfred."

Alfred placed his hand under Arthur's thigh and lifted his leg up to his own waist. Arthur immediately circled Alfred's torso and hopped up so that both legs were around Alfred's midsection. Without preparation and full of desire, Alfred pressed the head of his dick to Arthur's hole. He entered his lover smoothly with hardly any resistance and Arthur cried out into Alfred's mouth.

Alfred started up a bruising pace, fucking Arthur against the wall of the bathroom stall. Arthur grunted and moaned with each thrust, his ass clenching in pleasure which only made Alfred ram him harder. The walls of the stall shuddered at the force of their love-making. For a moment Alfred worried they would break the flimsy partition, but then his attention returned to his rutting cock. He felt pressure building as he fucked Arthur hard and fast. Arthur's ankles were wrapped around his waist and he had his arms tucked under Arthur's ass to support him better. The angle was amazing and allowed him to probe so very deep within the other man.

The cries of Arthur were growing so loud that Alfred knew they would be heard in the hallway. He didn't care. He wanted more from Arthur—he wanted his lover to scream. He rammed Arthur with his dick as hard as he could and his effort was met with pleasured groans and mewls. "More Alfred," Arthur cried out. "Uh—yes that's it—ugh, yes!" Soon enough Arthur was simply shouting Alfred's name in between moans and the occasionally request to go harder.

Arthur's fingers were scratching at his shoulders as the smaller man attempted to stay lifted up so that he could be properly fucked. "Artie, I've missed this," Alfred moaned. He winced at Arthur's nails dug into his skin but he kept up his pace, thrusting into Arthur's ass as hard as he could.

Their coupling was fast and rough and so full of need. Alfred knew that he wouldn't last long. They had been rutting together for only four of five minutes when Alfred felt his balls tighten with lust. He was going to come soon and he was going to do it hard.

"Hurry," Arthur said needlessly. "We—uh—uh—have a show—ohhhh!" Arthur came suddenly, shooting cum out onto Alfred's shirt. A long white spurt came streaming from his cock and covered Alfred's stomach, staining his clothes. Alfred didn't care. He didn't care about anything besides the fact that he was finally fucking Arthur once more. It felt so right and perfect. He needed to do this every day in order to stay sane. He needed Arthur. He loved him.

At that last thought, Alfred's eyes flew open and he pushed his cock deep into Arthur's tight asshole and came hard. He could feel himself empty into his lover and gave a great sigh of relief. He was still coming as Arthur began to wiggle, begging to be let down onto the floor. As he pulled out of Arthur, his still came, spilling his seed on the floor of the bathroom. He let Arthur unwind himself and when the Englishman's feet hit the floor, Alfred reached around and pressed his fingers in between Arthur's ass cheeks. He spread them and pushed his fingers into Arthur's gaping hole. It hadn't closed all the way and was leaking cum. Alfred pushed a finger inside of Arthur, as though making sure that he had just fucked the man long and good.

Arthur glanced down at his spike-studded watch and groaned in frustration. "We're going to be late. Get your hand out of my arse."

"What time is it?" Alfred asked.

"Ten minutes to showtime," Arthur said.

"We only fucked for five minutes," Alfred said, his voice surprised.

"Doesn't have to be long to be good you know," Arthur snarked.

Alfred pulled his fingers away and looked down at Arthur. They both stood, naked from the waist down and cum staining Alfred's shirt. "I have to change."

"Hurry up," Arthur pulled up his pants and began to fasten them.

"Wait," Alfred said, buttoning his own jeans. "What does this mean? Are we back together?"

"We were never together," Arthur said firmly. "We were just having fun."

Alfred stepped back as though he had been slapped. "I thought—"

"We can't be together, you know that. This was an accident, it won't happen again." Arthur unlocked the bathroom stall and stepped out, smoothing his unruly hair as he looked in the mirror. Alfred noticed he was limping and that his lips were swollen. "I have to think of my career. I can't risk this."

Without another word, Arthur turned and walked out of the bathroom, leaving Alfred standing there with cum on his shirt and tears forming in his eyes.

           

           


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the shitty lyrics...I was a little drunk when I wrote this.

**Chapter Ten:**

The concert was well-underway and the fans were screaming in high-pitched voices. Flashes were going off all over the auditorium that they were performing in and no one seemed to notice that Alfred's heart wasn't into the performance. He was going through the motions and his entire affect was flat. Arthur noticed. His stomach pooled with guilt. He knew that the lackluster performance coming from Alfred was his fault. He should have never fucked him in the bathroom. They should have broken off clean as they had been trying to do. The quickie they had shared earlier was only making things worse for them both.

They were all singing and dancing in unison, doing the moves that had been perfected over hours of rehearsal and the crowd was going wild. Their popular love ballad was up next and Arthur shuddered to think of Alfred singing dully through it. He took the lead on most of their songs, especially the love songs. The song ended and the lights changed. The gels went blue and made a more subdued lighting design to prepare for the upcoming ballad.

Stagehands came out and set five stools down on the stage in a semi-circle and they all took their seats. They were meant to be singing the song to the audience. The opening strains of music began and Arthur waited for Alfred to begin. But the time for lyrics came and went—twice. They were all humming their harmony parts and staring at Alfred who was sitting dejectedly on his stool. "Alfred," Francis hissed from next to the singer.

Alfred stood quickly and walked over to the edge of the stage, adjusting the hands-free microphone looped around his head. "Hey everyone," he said into the mic. The music abruptly stopped and the audience went silent. "There's something I have to get off my chest and I think this is just the place to do it."

Across the stage Arthur tensed. He had a horrible, sinking suspicion as to what Alfred was about to do. Was Alfred really about to throw away his entire music career? It seemed so. Alfred smiled at the audience and continued and Arthur found himself holding his breath. "I just wanted you all to be the first to officially know—I'm bisexual."

There were a few gasps in the audience, but someone began to clap and soon enough the entire room was roaring with applause. Arthur was a little taken aback. He knew that some public opinions on sexuality were changing, but he never expected that their fans would be completely fine with what Alfred was saying. No one seemed to care—in fact they all seemed to be very happy about Alfred's admission.

The rest of the group sat silently, all staring at Alfred. Some, like Yao had their mouths open; others, like Francis were smirking. "I just wanted to let you all know that. And before I sing this next song, I'd like to dedicate it to someone special. Someone who means more to me than anything."

He pointed offstage and the music started up once more. The slow strains of the love balled came over the audience once more, but this time Alfred started the song when he was supposed to.

' _You're everything to me,_

_You're all I'll ever need,_

_I hope that one day you will see_

_That we should do the deed.'_

The rest of the song was horrible and in the same vein as their usual drivel, but Arthur had learned not to judge the tastes of the public. Whatever they wanted was what they got and right now, they seemed to want Alfred. Sweet, loveable Alfred who was singing the pathetic drivel of a song and Arthur knew that he was singing it to him. Only to him. Arthur forgot to sing completely. He simply sat there, on his stool and watched Alfred pour his heart out.

When the song was over, the audience screamed and cheered—the noise was deafening. They received a standing ovation, their first ever. Alfred walked to the edge of the stage once more and waved his hands, trying to calm the audience. They didn't seem to pay him any mind. "That was for someone very special to me," Alfred shouted into his microphone. "Someone I love."

Arthur could feel his body moving but he seemed to have no control over it. He stood from his stool and felt his feet take small steps across the stage. As he approached Alfred, the audience finally quieted down. You could hear a pin drop in the auditorium as he reached up and placed his hand on Alfred's shoulder. The handsome American turned toward him and Arthur's breath caught. "Do you mean that? Do you really mean that? You love me?"

Alfred's eyes glistened and he smiled brightly at Arthur. "I love you Arthur Kirkland. I always have and I always will. You're the most amazing and wonderful man I have ever—"

Arthur cut him off by jumping into his arms. Their hands found each other's faces and pulled them close. Their lips met in a harsh kiss and Arthur didn't even care when the flashbulbs of cell phones and paparazzi went off around them. This was a true kiss and the pictures would prove it. There was no going back now and Arthur couldn't bring himself to care. He wanted this so badly. He needed Alfred and Alfred needed him. They loved one another.

Finally pulling away from their sweet reunion, Arthur smiled up at Alfred's face and said, "I love you too." The admission echoed throughout the crowd through his microphone. The crowd burst into cheers. They laughed and looked out at the people before them before they turned back to one another and embraced once more. This time, Arthur thought the kiss was the best one he had ever received.

When the concert finished, they walked offstage hand in hand, grinning and waving at the audience who were still going wild. They hit the blackness of the backstage area and immediately were in each other's arms. They kissed like teenagers making out before they could get caught. Arthur opened his mouth and felt Alfred's tongue caress his own. He moaned into his lover's lips.

Suddenly a hand clamped down on Alfred's shoulder and both of them broke apart, turning to look into the angry eyes of their manager. "What in the hell was that?" he spat, venom in his features.

"Um," Alfred shrugged. "I'm not sure."

"We talked about this and you expressly went against my orders," the manager shouted. "What were you thinking? You've ruined everything! I'm going to make sure you never work in this business again. You're finished!"

"Don't care," Alfred said, grasping Arthur's hand.

Arthur looked up into Alfred's face and saw the love that was shining there. "I don't care either," he said defiantly. "Do your worst!"

"That won't be necessary," came a female voice from behind them. They all turned and saw Elizabeta standing there, her arms crossed across her chest. "You told them that they couldn't be in a relationship?"

"They need to sell records to teenaged girls and they can't do that if they're faggots," their manager shouted.

Elizabeta held up her hand firmly. "Never. Use. That word. With me. Ever." Her tone was frosty and she narrowed her eyes.

"Sorry," the man said. "But they knew that they—"

"No," she spoke again. "That is not how I run my company. I do not dictate what my performers can and cannot do. Everyone deserves to be able to live their own lives and make their own choices. I believe in free will and I don't give ultimatums about who people are allowed to date. You know that. We've spoken of it before."

"I know," the manager held up his hands. "I just thought—"

"You didn't think," Elizabeta snapped. "You just wanted to make money. I don't need money that badly and especially not at the expense of other people. You're fired."

"What?"

"You heard me. Pack your things and leave my studio and my premises immediately. I have someone to replace you at this moment." She glared at their former manager who glared right back before he backed down and spun on his heel, leaving them. Elizabeta motioned behind her and Alfred's sister Madeline stepped out of the wings of the stage. "Are you ready to start in the big leagues Madeline?" she asked.

The quiet girl nodded and smiled at her brother. "I'm more than ready."

"Good, you start immediately. Boys, Maddy here is your new manager for the rest of the performances. Come to my office in the morning and we'll discuss salary," she said to Madeline. "Now," Elizabeta looked at Alfred and Arthur as well as the rest of the group who were gathering around at the scene. "That's taken care of. So, you two? That's sweet. We can work with this. Especially since your relationship is so popular as it is."

"What do you mean?" Alfred asked, his hand gripping Arthur's.

"Have you ever heard of fan fiction?" Elizabeta smirked. "Apparently since that original picture, you two have been the speculation of one of the most popular fan fiction slash pairings on the internet. Congratulations," she laughed.

"I have no idea what that means," Arthur said in bewilderment.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More NSFW but a little more fluffy...

**Chapter Eleven:**

The lights backstage were on and the area was completely empty. Even the technical crew had gone for the evening. Yao stood in the center of the stage and looked out at the empty area where the audience had been earlier in the evening. He was still in a little shock over what Alfred had done. It was bold and unimaginable in his mind. Yao was so conflicted. He wanted what Alfred had, but he wasn't sure how to get it.

Footsteps came up behind him and Yao turned, watching as Ivan approached him. "They want to close the building now, we must leave," Ivan said succinctly.

"Not yet," Yao said softly looking deep into Ivan's pale eyes. "I'm not ready."

"You're not ready for what?"

"For this," Yao stepped toward his secret love and tilted his head up for a kiss. Ivan captured his lips in his own and they embraced on the empty, almost dark stage.

"You're not ready for a kiss?" Ivan asked playfully when they had broken apart.

"No," Yao looked down at his shoes. "I'm not ready for this relationship. But I want it. I want us."

"You want a relationship with me?"

"Yes." Yao looked up into Ivan's eyes and his expression was sincere. "I want what Alfred and Arthur have and the only way to get it is to stand up to my father."

"You don't have to do this," Ivan insisted and took a step back. "I will not let your family disown you."

"It will not come to that, I think," Yao said, placing his hand on Ivan's chest over the larger man's heart. "I think, with time, my father will understand. You must be patient though. But I want to see where this is going, I really do."

"I will do whatever you wish," Ivan said sincerely. "My only goal in life is to make sure you are happy and safe. This is all I want."

"I am happy," Yao said, giving Ivan another tender kiss. "And I am always safe with you my love. I am always safe with you."

* * *

Arthur rolled over in the bed and wrapped his arms around Alfred. They were in the latter's suite and the room smelled like sex and musk. They were both sweaty and hot, Alfred had turned the air conditioning on high. He pressed a kiss to Alfred's cheek and smiled against the skin of his lover's face. "Good morning," he said happily.

"It's three in the morning," Alfred laughed, pulling his arms around Arthur and pressing their naked bodies together.

"It's still morning," Arthur laughed. "And I'm so happy that I get to wake up next to you."

"Things will be better now," Alfred kissed Arthur's forehead and smelled the Englishman's hair. "Maddy won't care about us. And apparently our fans don't either."

"Fan fiction," Arthur muttered. When they had gotten back to their hotel, Alfred had googled it and they had been inundated with hand drawn photos and lovingly written stories about the two of them making love. Sometimes it was down and dirty just like the way they had started; but most of them were tender and romantic. Arthur had blushed profusely at all of it. Alfred had laughed.

"I want you," Alfred whispered into Arthur's ear, nibbling on the lobe. "Do you want me?"

"More than you know."

Alfred rolled up so that his nude body was covering Arthur's and pressed their chests together. He bent down and pressed a tender kiss to Arthur's pink lips. "I want to do this right," he said.

"Whatever do you mean?" Arthur pulled away a little confused.

"This," Alfred said. "Our first time after going public. I want it to be perfect."

"Nothing is perfect my love," Arthur smiled at him.

"You are," Alfred was serious.

They kissed again and Arthur's heart felt full at Alfred's admission. It was so sweet and pure and so _Alfred_. Arthur shivered underneath his lover and leaned in so that their foreheads were pressing together. "I want you my love," he whispered.

Alfred prepared him wordlessly and Arthur's knees lolled to the side as he was stretched. He wanted Alfred so badly that he didn't think he could wait any longer, but he didn't want pain. Not this time. When he was ready, Alfred crawled over his body and Arthur could feel his hand grasping his own prick between their legs. He pushed his knees farther to the side and opened himself waiting for Alfred to take him.

Arthur tensed as Alfred's dick pressed against his hole. He relaxed his muscles and breathed out a cleansing breath as Alfred pushed into him. It felt so right, he felt so whole. Alfred pressed forward, his elbow hooked under Arthur's head as he slid his hardened cock deeply into Arthur's body. The sensation was overwhelming and Arthur couldn't catch his breath as Alfred entered him.

Their coupling was slow and tender. Alfred's kisses were fierce and full of wanting. Arthur couldn't get enough. His body relaxed as Alfred slowly made love to him. In all their time together they had been hot and fast; now they were languid and full of emotion. Their faces were pressed cheek to cheek and they panted into one another's ears.

Their kisses were affectionate and unhurried. Arthur felt so stretched and beautiful as he lay beneath Alfred's pumping body. Alfred whispered into his ears and caressed his head as he slowly fucked him. It was gorgeous and stunning and Arthur wanted more. When they finally came together, their cries were in harmony, their hearts beating as one.

"I love you."

"I love you more."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it...the end. I hope you enjoyed this porny little boy band ride...

**Chapter Twelve:**

_One Year Later…_

The hosts of _Wake Up, USA_ were laughing and asking all the right questions. Arthur knew that it couldn't be this easy. They hadn't brought up anything untoward and after this much time in show business, Arthur didn't trust much.

"So," the male host said grinning at them with his platinum teeth. "There has been so much speculation about the relationship between you two. No one has ever come out and said that you're dating."

Alfred leaned over and grasped Arthur's hand and the Englishman let him. It was so easy now. "We've been dating for about a year now. One year, two days, three hours and seventeen minutes."

"You're very precise," the female host winked at them.

"I'm not leaving anything to chance with Artie," Alfred said, smiling. "He's everything to me."

"So it's been a while," the male host chimed in. "Is there anything you two don't know about each other?"

"No," Arthur answered immediately. "There's nothing."

"Well," Alfred smiled shyly and looked down. "There is one thing."

Arthur goggled at him. His mouth opened and closed and the only thing whirring in his brain was _'is Alfred really going to spring something about our lives on me in front of all these people?'_

Alfred stood slowly and walked around the table, pushing it to the side with his foot. The female host held up her hands in a gesture of surrender and giggled. The male host was smirking. Arthur looked up at Alfred with his brow furrowed. "What are you doing?" he hissed.

Without a word, Alfred sank down onto one knee and looked him dead in the eyes. Their gaze was electric. "Arthur Kirkland," Alfred said in a serious tone. "I love you."

The crowd in the studio cheered. Some of them were waving signs that said 'Alfred and Arthur 4Ever' and other ridiculous sayings. The clapping was so loud that Arthur felt a ringing in his ears. "I love you more than anything," Alfred continued. "I want to spend my life loving you and only you."

Arthur felt his hand go to his mouth as he realized what was happening. Tears began to fill the corners of his eyes and he gasped. "I want to wake up each morning and love you. I want to end each day kissing you. You are the best part of my life."

Placing his hand behind his back, Alfred effortlessly pulled out a small, square black box and held it in his hand presenting it to Arthur. "I want to be with you always. Please," he opened the box, displaying the gorgeous, sparkling ring. "Do me the honor of being my husband. Marry me. Say you'll marry me."

The tears wouldn't stop. Arthur's face was wet and he didn't know why at first. He realized he was sobbing and nodding his head. "Yes!" he cried. "Yes Alfred! Yes I will marry you!" He launched himself into Alfred's arms, uncaring of the public setting, not worrying that their proposal was being broadcast live across the country. He had eyes only for his love. They tumbled to the floor, their limbs entwined as they kissed sweetly.

When Arthur put the ring on his finger, he knew that no matter where life led him, he would always be home as long as he was with Alfred. Alfred was love. Alfred was life. They kissed to the sound of resounding applause.


End file.
